“By God,” Felix said, “I envy you, starting out from here tonight your own man, nothing to hold you.” Floyd’s smile held irony, but Felix did not see it. “Floyd, let me help you a little. No need for you to walk all the way into town. I have always—don’t ask me why—wanted to help somebody ‘get away.’ You come with me now. We’ll wake up Sugar, and I’ll tell him to saddle my horse, and then she’s yours. When you got no more use for her, sell her. That’ll put a dollar in your pocket and keep you from starving. God almighty, I do envy you.”

Floyd saddled the horse himself, saying there was need to wake Sugar. He left at a walk down the drive toward the main road. Felix stared through the darkness long after he had lost sight and sound of the departing man. Then he went in and upstairs and found Nell asleep, the candle on the mantel burned down and nearly out. He blew it out and again undressed in the dark.

22

Sarah woke in what was for her a rare mood; she felt irritable and apprehensive and put it down to the rich food of the day before. The sound that had waked her was that of the maids in the upper hall, bringing first-coffee to the sleepers, as and at the very time they had been directed to do so. Whatever the excesses of the day and evening before, Myrtis was evidently in proper command downstairs.

Sarah slipped out of bed and threw a dress over her head, casually pulling it into place as she stepped into shoes without bothering with stockings. She opened the door into the hall just as Sallou raised her hand to knock on it. Smiling automatically, she said good-morning and that she would take the coffee tray, which she did. Unexpectedly free, Sallou looked blank a moment before going off to be bossy with the helper who had taken Juanita’s place, a girl named Sharon, who was still awed by the big house, and nervous at being so close to the intimate living arrangements of the white family.